Newt

Mia sat at a long wooden table in the Glade, surrounded by the boys who had become like family to her. They laughed, shared stories, and discussed the latest events, but deep down, something was wrong. Every time her gaze accidentally crossed Newt's, she felt her heart skip a beat. He was mysterious and quiet, and although they both knew there was something more between them, pride prevented either of them from making the first move. They never missed an opportunity to touch each other. Newt deliberately stayed close to Theresa, if Mia could see it, knowing he was making her jealous, but that only made things sweeter inside. But Mia wasn't stupid either. She was always giggling with one of the boys to piss Newt off, and damn, it always worked.

This evening was especially tense. Mia was chatting cheerfully with Gally, his jokes always lifting her spirits. She giggled and smiled, unaware that Newt sat at the other end of the table, his eyes filled with jealousy and anger. He couldn't take his eyes off them, and the more she laughed with Gally, the more his irritation grew.

Newt picked up a wooden mug of birch sap and took a sip, but the moment he saw Mia's hand rest on Gally's cheek, his patience snapped. He set the mug down on the table with a loud thud, spilling sap everywhere. All conversation died down, and attention shifted to him.

"Take your hand away from him, right now. I won't tell you twice," he said in a low, rough tone.